


Leaving the System

by peacehopeandrats



Category: Star Trek: Enterprise
Genre: Gen
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-05
Updated: 2018-09-05
Packaged: 2019-07-07 11:17:20
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 820
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/15907206
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/peacehopeandrats/pseuds/peacehopeandrats
Summary: A short little bit about Malcolm Reed leaving what we all assume is Section 31. It was inspired by a prompt site. (Prompt information in notes.)I was also challenged by another writer on the site to throw something down as quickly as I could because we were both missing the deadline.





	Leaving the System

**Author's Note:**

> The website for the prompt is here  
> https://writersblock378601501.wordpress.com/blog/  
> The challenge is to write a story that begins with whatever line is provided. The site accepts any type of fiction, including fanfiction.  
> August's prompt was  
> His contact said that by this time of the year he would have…

His contact said that by this time of the year he would have news from Harris about the permanency of his position within their special “Section.” Of course, the way said “Section” operated, a deadline could be strictly enforced or encompass any length of a time buffer at either end of the deadline. This strict disregard for order that claimed to be a total regard to order was one of the many reasons Malcolm Reed couldn't keep working for them.

Pacing the length of the pillared walkway, he glanced at the wall display where hours, minutes and seconds ticked away in a silent countdown to the rest of his career. He was running out of time. The new ship was waiting and it wouldn't wait forever.

“Anxious to be off?” 

The words made Reed spin on his heel and shoot daggers at the speaker. “Do you have /any/ idea what time it is?”

The man shrugged and indicated the time on the screen. “Sure.” He said nothing else, just smiled and stood silently staring, as if he were waiting for a reply. This agent was a man of even fewer words than Malcolm. It was infuriating. 

“Well, if you don't mind,” grunted the soon to be departing Ensign, “I'd like to know what decision was made.” No answer came, he waited a beat and glared, pushing his voice to the very brink of quiet frustration without crossing the line to shouting. “There /was/ a decision...”

“Oh, there was,” the contact answered, still smiling as if they were having chitchat about the weather or reminiscing about old times. “The debate went on for quite a while.”

Reed glanced at the time. He had thirty minutes to get to his waiting ship. “Stop toying with me,” he grumbled. “Am I free from your Section or not?”

“What we didn't understand,” said the agent as he turned and wandered casually down the hallway, in the /opposite/ direction to where Malcolm needed to be going, “is why the sudden change of heart.”

A couple passed them in the opposite direction, holding hands and seeming not to be in any hurry to get to their final destination. Reed turned the corners of his mouth up in a polite smile, nodded sharply once to them as they passed, then spun on the agent. “I was certain I gave a fairly detailed explanation in the correspondence I sent out six months ago.”

“Detailed doesn't begin to describe it,” chuckled the other man.

“So what's the problem?”

The agent finally gave in, a sigh filling his lungs before he released it with frustration. “The 'problem' is that people don't just leave whenever they want,” he explained. “You sign up, it's for life. Those terms were made very clear to you from the beginning.”

“Yeah, well... things changed.” Crossing his arms, Reed scowled. “I won't compromise my career in Starfleet. /That/ part of the arrangement was conveniently left /out/ of the...” He searched for a word he could use in public spaces, finally settling on “contract.”

“Don't you mean your father gave you so much grief about honor and service that you couldn't stand it any more?” His contact casually leaned back against a pillar, arms folded over his chest in what was probably a deliberate move to mimic Reed's own posture. “That you've let your aqua phobia drag you so far down beyond your comfort level that you will do anything to please him now?”

“This decision has nothing to do with my /parents/.” Reed snarled, then added uncomfortably, “Or anything else.” It didn't even occur to him to wonder how the other man knew about his family and his fears. Their Section knew everything, had their hands in everything, and he didn't at all like where working for them had taken him. “It's nothing to do with comfort and everything to do with what's /right/.”

The agent shook his head. “Not the song you sang when you came to training.”

“I was younger then, naive, and I had /no/ idea how much “adjusting” my conscience needed in order to be a part of something like this. I had no idea what it was about.” 

“That's the general idea,” laughed the older man.

Malcolm snorted and turned back the way they had come. “If I won't get an answer from you, then you won't get one from me when you next come calling.”

“There are some obligations that will /always/ go beyond your loyalties, you know,” the voice called after him.

Reed glanced over his shoulder. “That's why I'm leaving for my assignment with Starfleet,” he said flatly.

“Good luck,” the man shouted at his back. “You probably won't hear from me again!”

As his boots clicked out a rapid rhythm on the marble floor, Malcolm Reed allowed himself a large grin. It was the only celebration of his newfound freedom that he would be allowed to have.


End file.
